


Universitas in Love

by marinE92



Category: Original Work
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-03-19
Updated: 2013-03-18
Packaged: 2017-12-05 18:51:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/726706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marinE92/pseuds/marinE92
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Andrea is the new and youngest teacher in a law university. But how can he survive if he's so embarassingly award, surrounded as he is by icy collegues? Especially one...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Universitas in Love

I tend to do very idiotic things when I’m agitated. For example: why am I here three hours earlier? I didn’t even notice it, I woke up suddenly and left home quickly, without having breakfast. And I’m not hungry, this is strange because usually I need to eat something every four hours or so. In my family I’m called the World’s Eater, now that I think about it. I shift my new, professional bag in my arms, watching the big, grey building in front of me. Ok, I’m not feeling too well. .   
Oh, come on! I had to face many battles in my life, I even moved from a little village of the Lazio’s region to Rome, to study law. And now I’m afraid of a bunch of students! Four hundred students, all fixated on me like owls, with their pens on their papers ready to write down every single word I say, all concentrated on taking every sentence of mine like an absolute truth that will lead them to their dreamed diplomas. And the colleagues…the youngest teacher of all the University, only 29 years, graduated with merit and with four language certificates. They are going to hate me. Andrea Marinetti, the new teacher of Law History, one of the most useless subjects for the future sharks of the courts, but at least loved from the classical souls like mine. Absolutely, I will be hated. Or ignored, I can’t say what is worst for a man like me.   
I put a hand on the door to open it, but I stop. If I enter, I can’t go back and escape: I’m in. Come on Andrea, don’t be a moron! I take a big lungful of air and then I exhale it, very slowly.   
Again, I lay my hand on the entrance, and again I put it down…I’m also of the south of Italy! I don’t have a strong accent, but maybe there is somebody in here that despises who comes from regions under Florence. I never met a lot of them in my career, but who knows, here in Milan! And I can predict that I would go mad in two seconds, making me the reputation of a troublemaker, so stupid to feel outraged for a thing like that!  
Luckily it’s so early that the students aren’t here yet…  
“Are you going to open that door, or are you afraid that it’s going to eat you?”.   
I almost jump for the shock and I fell back against the door’s glass as I turn. There is a man in front of me, the fact that he is quite taller than me doesn’t help me in making me appear as a self-confident and composed person, like I would like to. I observe him from down here, under his gaze, grey and…well, quite pissed off. I can’t find a term to describe him better than that, but I should use a more sophisticated vocabulary from now.   
He’s in his early forties and he’s dressed formally in black with a matched tie. At his wrist there is a silver watch and he carries a bag very similar to my one. Perfect, he’s a professor.   
What should I do? Present myself? Like “let’s begin with a sentence that would inspire every social being to a conversation”, maybe with: “I’m sorry, I had my mind in the clouds. This is my first day here, you know?”. Or maybe it’s better something more badass style, something from a tough guy that demands respect: “There’s no need to be so rude. If you’re in a hurry just enter”. But he doesn’t seem a social one, or one with whom you can argue without ending buried and forgotten.   
“Oh, lovely day isn’t it?”. I should bite my tongue. Why couldn’t I start with a normal “good morning?”. He looks at me, totally unimpressed.   
“Good morning”.   
Oh my, his voice just transformed me into a statue of ice. He opens the door, going away with his footsteps echoing between the walls. They have a rhythm that reminds me of the entrance of a villain in a film. I look around me before stomping a foot in the cement: first bad impression of the day, just done!


End file.
